


NAMANANA

by Soapbubblesoul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: AU, Delivery Boy Yixing, Eventual Fanxing, Fantasy, Gods, M/M, Magic, Master/Servant, Mythical Beings & Creatures, NAMANANA MV inspired, Prophetic Dreams, Slight Action, Wish Fulfillment, Yixing-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-04 11:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/pseuds/Soapbubblesoul
Summary: Yixing is the best delivery boy Huang Lei has, so of course he gets entrustred with the myserious package that has to arrive at the pink lake before the next full moon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theflyjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyjar/gifts).



> I said with the teaser already that the NAMANANA MV so would inspire fic from me, and it definitely did.
> 
> Dedicated to Lo because she bought me the coffee that enabled me to write most of the second part! 
> 
> unedited and unbetaed

The first thing Yixing notices when he wakes is the coarse fabric against his skin. He exhales slowly as he allows his eyes to remain closed while the sleep seeps from his body. The room around him is cold but he is still wrapped in the warmth of slumber. Vaguely he feels the remains of a dream cling to his mind, but the images are too fleeting, he can not make out a clear picture anymore, only the shadow of emotions remaining. It was a nice dream, Yixing thinks. Even without knowing the details, it draws a small smile to his lips.

He is on the brink of drifting back to unconsciousness— _just_ _five more minutes_ —when muted voices waft into the back of the store where he‘s retreated to for his nap.

„This package is of utmost importance. It _has_ to be delivered before the next full moon.“

„Don‘t worry, he is our best. I promise you, if you entrust us with your package, we will see to it that it gets to its destination. With time to spare, even.“

„Okay. I will pay you double your normal rate, half now and half once the package is safely delivered. Just remember, under no circumstances may it be opened. The consequences would be fatal for all of us.“

„Of course. We only provide the highest service, we would never tamper with a delivery. Even if you should not trust in our code of honour, you can be assured that our reputation would be ruined if we were to mess with goods to be delivered. You don‘t bite the hand that feeds you.“

„Right.“

Yixing hears shuffling and carton scraping against the slightly rough stone surface of the store‘s counter. It is followed by the clinking of coins as they change their owner. There are a few more words exchanged as the deal is closed, but they’re only pleasantries, nothing of interest to Yixing. A bell rings clear through the entire store as the door is opened, and with a final final reminder of how the package _must_ be delivered, no matter what adversaries might appear, the customer leaves.

When Huang Lei walks into the back of the store, Yixing is already sitting upright on the linen-covered boxes he has chosen as his napping place.

„Good, you‘re awake. There‘s work for you,“ Huang Lei says as he passes by Yixing to fetch a cotton satchel from one of the hooks at the far end of the room.

Yixing simply nods, and jumps down with a lithe movement. He stretches his limbs and dusts off his pants, and when Huang Lei holds out the bag to him, he takes it and throws it around his shoulder so it comes to rest on his back.

„I don‘t know the details, but this is important. You do know the pink lake? It has to be there before the next full moon. Remember your training, remember your honour. Under no circumstances may you open the package, and under no circumstances may it be damaged. You must protect it, and you must deliver it.“

Yixing nods, his expression solemn while he listens to the mantra he knows inside out but as soon as Huang Lei‘s done, a cheeky smile spreads on his lips. „Full moon? That‘s still ten days away. I will have returned back here already with the package safely in the hands of its receiver by then. As you said, I am the best.“

 

**NAMANANA**

 

The market is bustling around Yixing. It always is alive, swarming with people from all regions one could possibly imagine. This town is a central hub, streets leading to near and far-away places from there. It‘s the oasis in the desert that every traveller passing through the area will visit at least once. The smell of exotic food mixes with the sound of exotic languages amidst colourful fabric hanging from both shop roofs and moving bodies. To some it might have felt like a cacophony, but Yixing could tell the harmony woven in all the variety. He had grown up in the streets of the market, had snatched apples from fruit stands when life wouldn‘t put any other food between his teeth, had climbed up walls and laid on roofs to watch the stars once the sun had set.

These streets were his home, and he knows them like the back of his hand. So he weaves his way through the throng of people with ease, the satchel securely on his back. He is making good progress. At this rate he will have reached the border of the city before nightfall. Then he will only have to worry about catching a ride to the next village over, which shouldn‘t be too difficult. There are always some merchants eager to earn a few extra coins. With how much money the delivery brings them, Huang Lei has even eased the restrictions on his travelling budget a bit. So perhaps Yixing will not have to spend the journey sandwiched between sheep—not that he minded that one all that much. They had been very friendly sheep, but he must say that having a proper seat to sit on decidedly increases travel comfort.

He is caught up in daydreaming about what sort of ride his money can buy him this time, but he still instantly feels the shift in atmosphere. Mid-step he freezes, and one of his hands comes up to clutch the satchel. If there should be the need, it will only take him one tug and the package will be in front of his chest so he can guard it better. His muscles vibrate slightly with tension as he gets himself ready—for what, he doesn‘t quite know yet.

The noises are still the same, the colours and scents. Around him are merchants and travellers and locals, nothing out of the ordinary, but Yixing knows that something is off. He _feels_ it. Out of all the delivery boys Huang Lei employs, he is the best, and it‘s not only because he is so light-footed. He is good at blending into crowds, and at reading the air. There is a reason he is the one who usually gets entrusted with the most delicate or valuable deliveries.

From the corner of his eye Yixing catches something black, and he immediately bends his knees slightly as his grip on the cotton string around his torso tightens. He inhales deeply, then exhales, and counts down from three as he readies his body. Once he reaches zero, he spins around and makes a dart for one of the side alleys, away from the loud, lively market. As he moves, he scans his surroundings. He counts three people with black masks covering their mouths and noses, as if they had covered up against a sandstorm.

Yixing knows for a fact that the last sandstorm lies a week in the past already, because one of the other delivery boys had gotten caught unprepared by it, and Huang Lei had had to head out to rescue him. As Yixing ducks under drying linen sheets and through low sandstone doorways leading to the bridges connecting the upper floors of the buildings, he briefly entertains the idea that the suspicious masked people hadn‘t been watching him at all. Perhaps he is just being paranoid. The nameless customer had repeatedly emphasised how important the package is, that it is not to be opened, and that there will be adversaries. All of that might be influencing Yixing‘s judgement, and making him see attackers where there are none.

That hope is short-lived, however, when Yixing turns a corner and nearly runs face first into a mummed person. He instantly skids to a halt, and even though it only takes him a split-second to re-orientate himself, it is enough for three other shapes to emerge from behind him.

A silent curse slips from Yixing‘s lips, and as he assumes a defensive stance he fiddles with the satchel, tying a knot in the strap so that the package sits closer to his body even as it remains on his back. Bringing it to the front of his chest would only restrict his movements.

Yixing can see neither the mouth nor the eyes of his pursuers, but he is sure that the one he nearly bumped into is the the leader. And from the way the other holds himself, he is rather certain of his victory. Even without seeing his face Yixing can tell the smugness oozing off of him.

Yixing responds with a smirk himself. They might think they have succeeded just because they have him outnumbered and nearly surrounded, but they are underestimating him. If he is entrusted with a package, he will deliver it. On time. No matter the hurdles or obstacles thrown at him on the way. He doesn‘t have his reputation for no reason.

Once more he focuses all his energy on his legs, and counts down from three. Then, he does what he does best. He runs.

He breaks right through the space between two of the pursuers and easily dodges their hands reaching for him and the cargo on his back. They follow after him, but they stand no chance. Now that Yixing knows that there are people on his heel, he moves with the intent to throw them off his track. It doesn‘t take long before Yixing can slip through a doorway, unseen. He crouches down next to a big vase and slows his breathing until it is nearly inaudible.

After the pursuers pass without discovering him, he allows himself to relax a tiny bit, but he stays motionless, silent and alert for ten more minutes. Only once he is certain that they‘re not coming back to scour the entire neighbourhood does he allow himself to sink down onto the floor.

His pulse is still thrumming too fast in his veins as he finally tugs the satchel to his front and undoes the clasp that has been keeping it closed. The packet that gets revealed when he throws back the flap is anything but special. To be precise, it looks like the definition of ordinary. Brown carton, average size, average weight. The address label is filled in with a near robotic precision, the handwriting revealing no information about the author.

 _Well, something about you must be special._ Yixing thinks as he places a hand on top of the package.

He has been met with resistance before, from harmless pickpockets to gangs wishing to use brute force to relieve him of the goods he was delivering. But these people—they weren‘t simple thieves. Something about them was different. Yixing can tell, even if he can‘t put his finger on it.

Under his hand, the package vibrates slightly, but Yixing is too distracted by his own thoughts to notice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had planned to write the second part the day after posting the first one, but it kept getting longer and longer, so this also took way longer than originally anticipated.
> 
> Still unedited and unbetaed.

He makes it to the city wall, but it is way past night-fall when he arrives. So rather than finding a ride to get him to his next waypoint, he climbs into one of the attics nearby. Perhaps it would be wise to escape from the city under the protective veil of the dark, but all the merchants who want to take advantage of the night for travelling in the cool rather than under the burning sun have left already. His chances at catching a ride are low, and searching for a merchant at this hour might attract more attention than he can handle.  

So he decides to rest instead, regaining some of his energy. It‘s only one night he loses like this, and there is enough time that he doesn‘t have to needlessly hurry, especially when it would put the successful delivery at risk. 

Sleep, however, is a fitful business. It‘s not the unfamiliar environment, neither is it the makeshift nature of his bed. He is used to sleeping in way less comfortable places or positions. It‘s his dreams.

They are hurried, restless. Yixing sees shadows moving in the dark but they remain at the edge of his perception, whenever he turns to focus on them they‘ll slink away. He sees a cave, illuminated only by a few torches, then a wide open field with a single, withered tree, then a desert strip with rectangular rocks protruding from the sand, then a mountain range, then the shore of a lake. Each scene only flashes up shortly, leaving him feeling disoriented and unsettled. All throughout it, there is another presence there with him. Yixing can tell he‘s not alone, as if he‘s being watched. Or perhaps, as if he‘s the one watching through someone else‘s eyes.

_I have waited for so long._

The voice is deep, resounding.It seems to come from every direction at once—or none at all. Yet Yixing spins around, and comes to an abrupt halt. Right there, in front of him, barely an arm‘s length away, an orb is floating at his eye level. It‘s exterior is dark, but Yixing can see light flickering up every few seconds, as if there is a thunderstorm trapped inside. Without thinking about it, he reaches his hand out. In a trance, he watches his fingertips get closer and closer to it. He is only a hair‘s breadth away from touching it...

_Hurry._

A dull force hits Yixing right in the stomach, and he opens his eyes with a startled gasp. For a second, he can‘t make sense of his surroundings. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins as he frantically searches for an attacker, but there is no one in the attic aside from him. His next thought is directed at the package, and he scrambles to pull it out from underneath the linen sheet he used to hide it. It‘s still there, unharmed, and Yixing lets out a deep sigh as he allows himself to relax. 

By now, all that remains of the dreams is a vague reverberation of a feeling. No matter how hard Yixing tries, he can‘t recall any images. There is a sense of urgency coursing through his veins, like when one forgets something important, and knows it was important, but just can‘t remember what it was. Eventually, Yixing decides that it must just be the after-effects from the encounter the previous day. 

 

 

**NAMANANA**

 

Hitching a ride out of the city proves to be easy. The satchel with the packet securely tied around his body, Yixing sits squeezed between barrels of whiskey. It‘s not the most comfortable, but it is efficient and, most of all, inconspicuous.

For the next few days, Yixing remains on his toes. Whenever he sees a shadow move, he tenses, yet nothing emerges aside from non-descript but harmless faces. He still feels watched, though for some reason the presence doesn‘t come across as... malicious. It‘s not benevolent either, that much Yixing can tell, but it doesn‘t seem to mean him any harm. Nonetheless it makes his hair stand on end.

It slows him down a little, to stay cautious. He takes additional detours, covers his tracks and lays false trails the best he can. In case the mummed shapes from the market know his destination, they should still not be able to predict where he will move next. Perhaps he‘s being overly wary, but no matter how nonchalantly he accepted the job, he is very conscientious about successfully completing it. 

No package will be lost, not on his watch. It‘s a question of honour.

After the fifth day, he slowly starts to relax. When he lets himself sink down into the soft blankets, he is almost ready to believe that somehow that entire scene of him being chased didn‘t even happen. His ride that night is on the back of a truck. It‘s loaded with other packages, but the majority of the cargo area is occupied by a makeshift bed, complete with pillows and blankets. 

„I go on long drives through the desert all the time, it‘s nice to be able to catch some sleep at some point. And be comfortable while doing so, too,“ the merchant had explained with a laugh when Yixing had commented on it in awe.

They leave at nightfall, the merchant telling Yixing to catch some sleep because he will wake him up once they reach the red rocks. The final leg of Yixing‘s journey will start from there, the pink lake only half a day‘s hike away. The way isn‘t strenuous at all, but considering that Yixing doesn‘t exactly have anything else to do, sleep is the best option. If there is one thing he has learned on the streets it is that every opportunity to rest and replenish one‘s powers has to be seized and cherished, because unexpected things might always happen. 

It is a mild night. As the truck rumbles through the desert, he keeps watching the sky. The moon is waxing, only a few days away from being a fully round circle. It sits brightly among all the stars, dulling down their glow with his light. Nonetheless, it is dazzling how many stars are visible, and Yixing can‘t avert his eyes. 

He is certain he hasn‘t fallen asleep but he blinks, and when he next opens his eyes, the scenery in front of him is entirely different. Instead of the open desert drenched in blue, he sees rough stone painted in red, diffuse lighting. He recognizes the cave from his dreams, despite not remembering the dream at all. 

His steps are unsure as he walks down the dimly-lit path, the small stones he keeps stepping on crunching beneath his feet. The sound gets swallowed instead of reflected, as if the entire cave is wrapped in some invisible cotton. Around him, the shadows rise up again. They climb from the floor, up over the uneven walls. As Yixing proceeds down the path, they dance around him, as if to entice him. He _knows_ he should be wary, that he should be scared when the shadows eventually take human shapes and detach from the walls. But his heart remains calm and his gaze directed forward as his steps continue taking him further, slow but determinedly. 

The shadow-shapes remain at his side the whole way, whispering amongst themselves but moving soundlessly aside from that. Only when the tunnel opens into a bigger cave do they fall back. There are torches mounted on the walls, casting a flickering light onto the ground, and the shadows appear rather reluctant to make contact with it. Yixing, however, steps into it without hesitation, and without any obstacle. 

Somehow, even the countless candles lit throughout the place are not enough to entirely drive the dark from the cave. Yixing can make out the shapes of tables and rows of benches, as if the space has been prepared for a banquet. The festivities are long over, if they ever took place to begin with. All that remains is the tableware, carelessly strewn across the wooden surfaces.

Yixing pays it no heed as he walks past it, sight trained on the far end of the cave. Hidden beyond the circle of light, Yixing can make out the shape of what he can only describe as a throne. It‘s massive, dwarfing the person sat in it. As Yixing steps closer, flames further down the cave flicker to life. They cast the throne in enough light that Yixing can make out the metal peacock feathers making up the back of the chair. They shine golden, exuding nothing but decadence. When Yixing is only a few feet away he realises that the entire chair is made of gold, and it momentarily distracts him from the person occupying the seat. 

Yixing looks up—

And comes eye to eye with himself.

His hair is longer, curling around the edges like it does when he doesn‘t tame it. It also seems a shade darker, as if he hasn‘t been under sunlight in a while. The clothes on his body are also unfamiliar to Yixing. He is used to linen and cotton, coloured in earthy tones and thin in fabric. The him he‘s looking at is draped in thick, black clothes. A shirt, pants, a jacket, rings in his ears and a belt around his waist. Yixing can‘t tell what they‘re made of, but the fabric looks thick and firm. What really stands out however is the jacket, or rather, the golden ornaments covering it. They give an air of luxury Yixing would never have been able to picture himself with. The smirk on his—the other him‘s—lips doesn‘t look like himself either. At all. He knows how to be confident, for sure, but this smirk—the only way he can describe it as is _haughty._  

The other him doesn‘t say anything, but leans back in the throne. He spreads his legs a little bit farther and rests his hands on his thighs in a clear gesture of dominance. It‘s such a jarring scene for Yixing to witness that his brain just refuses to compute it for a second. How can that be him, but also be so unlike him?

When another figure steps from behind the throne, Yixing doesn‘t even notice it at first. He‘s too focused on the sight of himself. Then, he sees a finger on his cheek that definitely isn‘t his own. He follows the sight of it, over an arm up to a bare shoulder. Eventually, his gaze falls on the face of the person who is tracing the jaw of the other him all casually. The gesture seems appreciative, almost affectionate, even.

Yet, the other’s eyes aren’t even looking at the other him. Instead, they’re trained on Yixing, not wavering for one second. Yixing wonders if they‘re actually capable of piercing right through his soul or if they only look as if they can.

It wouldn‘t surprise Yixing, because the other clearly isn‘t human. How else could he have reptile eyes? They seem to glow in the darkness, as if there is a fire burning behind them, and Yixing shudders. The other is only wearing a pair of pants with wide legs, tied tightly at his waist to prevent them from slipping. His chest is bare, showing bronze skin and lean muscles. Aside from the eyes the other looks perfectly human, and it just makes his gaze all the more unsettling. The smirk on his lips doesn‘t help much either.

„My little sheep, don‘t look so scared. I mean you no harm.“ 

The other‘s voice is a deep baritone, and the moment Yixing hears it, another memory flashes up from deep within his brain. 

_I have waited for so long._

Yixing swallows, tries to move, but it‘s as if his legs are frozen in place. He also is unable to look away, even as the other takes a few steps forward, further into the light. 

It takes Yixing an entire heartbeat to remember how to breathe when the other comes to a halt close enough that Yixing has to tilt his head slightly to keep looking at the other‘s eyes. Up this close, he can actually see the flames licking at the other‘s eyes. The sight is so mesmerising that Yixing almost misses when the other speaks up again.

„You are the cutest servant I‘ve had in… You know what, I actually can‘t remember a cuter one. You might just be the cutest servant I‘ve ever had. Will you tell me your name?“

Yixing has absolutely no idea what is going on, why he just got called a servant, or who the person standing opposite of him is. There is a sinking feeling in his stomach, a premonition that the other might be something more than a mere human. Perhaps that‘s what compels him to actually reply, albeit with a slight stutter in his voice. „Yi-Yixing?“

The other doesn’t seem to care that his answer sounds more like a question as a slow smile creeps onto the man‘s features. „Yixing. A pretty name to go with a pretty face.“

„Who are you?“ Yixing blurts out then, uncaring that he could be sealing his own fate by being rude to someone who might or might not be a god.

The man purses his lips, but he looks amused rather than angry. As if Yixing is a clueless child, and he finds his naivety endearing.

„You ask who I am?“ The other‘s voice has taken on a new booming quality, and Yixing can only nod in response as all the words have died in his throat.

„I am the dragon of the east. You have summoned me, so you will serve me. In return, I will grant your wish.“

The dragon.

He is face to face with a god.

His throat goes dry while his palms become clammy, and his heart beats fast enough that he is certain it will break out of his ribcage. He has heard legends about the dragon, about him returning to earth. Some say, to bring chaos, some say, to grant wishes. The dragon loves to collect treasures, gold and gems, but it‘s most priced possession, its orb, was robbed from it thousands of years ago. Whoever returns it, shall receive one wish. 

There is, however, one pressing issue.

„I have not summoned you,“ Yixing croaks, his vocal chords barely cooperating with him.

For a split second, the dragon looks genuinely confused. It‘s a weird look for a god to wear, the other‘s royal features seeming unfit for any expression that is linked to uncertainty or surprise. However, it‘s very fleeting before it gets replaced by an omniscient serenity again.

„I apologize, time works differently for me. You will have summoned me, my little sheep.“ The dragon says with an air of finality, and after a beat of silence, he adds. „ _Yixing._ Such a pretty name, it should be used.“

Even if Yixing knew how to answer to that, he doesn‘t think he can unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. What is even going on? Yixing has absolutely no idea why he is there, in the lair of the dragon. What does the dragon mean, Yixing will have summoned him? How would he do that in the first place? He is not in possession of the dragon‘s orb, if the legend should be true. It also doesn‘t state anything about becoming the dragon‘s servant in return.

Upon witnessing his silence, the other speaks up again.

„They no longer pursue you, because it is my wish for you to come to me. You have been chosen, do you consider yourself lucky?“

A smile suddenly forms on the dragon‘s face, softer than would ever seem possible with features so harsh. It‘s gone as fast as it appeared however. Somehow, something inside Yixing lurches in that moment, as if a part of him is scrambling to please the other in hope of getting that smile back. 

Whatever it is, it immediately dies down when he sees someone else step to stand beside the dragon. It‘s himself, again, but it‘s also not the same him from before. It’s another version of himself. When he looks towards the throne, the haughty version of himself that was clad in black has disappeared. All that remains is this new version.

The dragon casts a glance to his side, and there it is again. That smile. If Yixing didn’t know better, he would even say there’s fondness in the expression. Yixing shifts his gaze to looks at himself. 

His hair is a blond-ish green. That‘s the first thing he notices. The second thing is that he‘s wearing only a light green tunic, with a collar so loose that most of his chest and his right shoulder is visible. It reveals the golden marks on his chest, that move all the way over his body and down his arms. They‘re under his eyes too, on his cheekbones, and half-hidden away under his hair on his forehead. On his collarbones rests an amulet, golden as well, in the shape of an eye. The spear he‘s holding is about a head bigger than him, but somehow it looks as natural in his hand as if it‘s and extension of his body, forming one entity with the patterns all over Yixing‘s skin.

This time, the dragon is actually looking at the other him while talking.

„The future holds glory for you, by my side. So hurry, little sheep. Hurry.“

It‘s a weird sense of déjà vu, and Yixing almost anticipates the hit to his stomach this time but he still isn‘t quite prepared.

When his eyes fly open, he is back in the truck. The once calm night, however is anything but. Dark clouds are concealing the stars, the moon barely able to fight its way through them. The air is so thick with the promise of a storm that Yixing can nearly feel the electricity crackling even when no lighting is illuminating the sky just yet. He knows everything should be instilling a sense of dread within him, but somehow, he can‘t bring himself to fear. It‘s as if an impenetrable calmness has been wrapped around his heart.

So even when time suddenly decelerates until everything is moving in slow-motion does he not feel worried. Then, the storm breaks lose, but Yixing watches it unfold as if he is nothing but a bystander. Harsh winds whirl up the sand around him, and thunder rumbles weirdly muted as lightning crawls along the rims of the clouds. 

Then, a particularly strong gust hits the truck, the very same moment that a flash of lightning casts everything in bright, blindingly white light. Yixing sees how everything else the truck had loaded gets picked up from the cargo area and lifted into the air as if it weighs nothing. Only one package remains. 

_Under no circumstances may you open the package._

Huang Lei‘s voice rings loud and clear in his mind, but there‘s another voice. Deeper, smoother. Commanding.

_Hurry._

Before Yixing even fully realises, what is going on, he has reached out. He watches his own hand stretch towards the package as if his body is moving on auto-pilot, some higher force leading him. 

The package opens easily—way too easily, Yixing thinks briefly, but the thought is gone the very second he lays eyes on what had been concealed by the unremarkable brown carton. 

Yixing instantly recognises the orb, his dream suddenly coming back to him. He sees the storm raging beneath its surface, lightning dancing across the orbs surface as his hand only seconds away from touching it. Adrenaline shoots through his veins. It‘s the exact same scene as the one from his dream, and Yixing feels his breath catch in his chest with the realisation. Just that this time, he doesn‘t wake up right before his fingertips touch the orb. 

Surprisingly enough, the orb does not feel as cold as it‘s surface would suggest. It doesn‘t feel warm either, however. It‘s smooth, and feels almost... alive.

Yixing doesn‘t get to finish the thought, as suddenly the storm inside the orb changes, as if reacting to Yixing‘s presence. The dark clouds inside swirl faster, the lightning more frequent and less rhythmic. A ball of light forms in the center of the orb. It‘s mesmerising to look at, and Yixing‘s rapidly hammering pulse suddenly calms down. Then, the ball of light explodes, and everything around Yixing disappears in whiteness.

 

 

**NAMANANA**

 

Yixing has no idea how he moved from the desert to the shore of the lake. He has no idea what happened to the truck, or its driver. Whether they were even real. It feels like a dream to him. 

It‘s broad daylight, the blue sky dotted with a few white clouds. The sun makes the lake look an even brighter, more brilliant pink than Yixing remembers. He barely has eyes for it, however, as his gaze is fixed on the structure steadily rising from the water.

It‘s a pyramid, like the ones Yixing has only ever seen on pictures. He always promised himself that one day, when he had saved up enough money from delivering packages, he would take the trip south. To see the pyramids with his own eyes, exploring them and many other landmarks he‘d heard about from travelling merchants. 

Those conversations feel as if they happened an entire lifetime ago. Time, Yixing finds, does not seem to flow linearly anymore around him. It‘s the only way he can put it, even though he can‘t begin to explain why he thinks so.

As soon as the pyramid stops its ascent, an opening appears in it, and a shape steps from the darkness into the sunlight. Yixing wouldn‘t have needed to see the golden skin of the dragon‘s bare chest, a white cloth wrapped around the other‘s waist being the only garment the dragon is wearing. He still manages to make it look as if it is the finest robe not even money can buy, befitting only kings themselves. In his hand, he‘s holding the spear Yixing saw himself with during his... vision? Dream?

„You have arrived,“ the dragon declares once he has come to a halt right in front of Yixing.

In lieu of a verbal answer, Yixing simply nods. 

„Ever since our last encounter, I have been thinking. You gave me your name, and I only gave you my title. That was inconsiderate of me. Yixing, in your language, I am called Yifan.“

 _Yifan_.

Yixing tries the name on his tongue, but makes no sound as he does so. Nonetheless, it draws a smile on his lips. It feels right, the way his mouth moves around the letters.

„You have summoned me,“ Yifan continues, and this time Yixing has no reason to protest. „Tell me, what do you wish for?“

The question catches Yixing off-guard. For a second, he breaks out of the serene trance he had been enveloped in. 

„I...I don‘t know,“ he truthfully answers.

He fears it will enrage the dragon, that he came so unprepared. Yixing never intended to seek out a god to fulfil a wish of his, so he has no idea what wish would be worthy of being presented to a deity.

But instead of being upset with him, Yifan only smiles at him placidly. 

„Do not worry, little sheep. You will have all the time you need to figure out what you wish for.“

He holds out the spear in front of him, offering it to Yixing.

„After all, you will have an eternity by my side, Yixing.“ 

Yixing knows, as soon as he takes the spear, the deal will be sealed. He will have signed away his soul to the dragon, to serve at his side until the dragon decides to set him free again. 

Without hesitation, he reaches out, and wraps his fingers firmly around the cold metal of the spear‘s shaft. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I can‘t help but wonder if the fic should be called „Dragon Ball“ instead of NAMANANA. But anyways! This is what my brain came up with when I let it run with the inspiration from NAMANANA! Let me know what you think~
> 
> Also the first alternate Yixing is inspired by the Yixing in the mv, while the second one was inspired by [this amazing fanart](https://weibo.com/6122690905/GFisx7JM2)! Go check it out because I probably sucked at getting across just how gorgeous Yixing looks like that.


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